


In The Dark

by Dawn Cunningham (Delta_Dawn)



Series: Highlander stories with Tessa [24]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-14 23:06:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7194584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delta_Dawn/pseuds/Dawn%20Cunningham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An accident leaves Richie in the dark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Dark

In The Dark by Dawn Cunningham

Disclaimers:

Duncan, Tessa and Richie belong to Rysher. I'm just borrowing them and not getting paid for it.

Do not post or publish this story anywhere else, without my express permission. Feel free to share it with others as long as the disclaimers remain intact. 

This is a first season story that takes place some time before Band Of Brothers.

************

In The Dark by Dawn Cunningham

Wednesday:

Tessa Noel frowned as she glanced around the antique store. Something was wrong, but she wasn't quite sure what it was. Her eyes finally settled on the problem--one of the bulbs on the track lighting had burnt out. Richie should have seen that and fixed it, but sometimes he could be totally oblivious to the most obvious things. She looked around for the young man, then decided to change the bulb herself when she couldn't find him. 

She fetched a new bulb from the storage cabinet in her workroom, then climbed the stairs and walked out on the catwalk until she could reach the lights. A closer view of the fixtures made it quite obvious that some serious cleaning was needed. There was enough dirt and dust built up on the lights to plant flowers. She couldn't really blame Richie for that. The city had been repairing the street outside the antique store for over a week. Every time the door opened, dirt and dust blew in. It had been a constant battle to keep the floors and display cases clean. Still, this much build-up had to come from more than that. She'd have to talk to Richie about cleaning the lights on a regular basis.

Tessa fetched cleaning supplies--a bucket, rubber gloves, a rag, and hot, soapy water. For good measure, she added ammonia to the bucket, deciding it would help cut through the grime that had baked on. Her eyes started to water from the fumes, but she turned her head away and blinked several times to clear them. Once again she headed for the catwalk where she put the bucket down, and set to work. One by one, she removed the bulbs and cleaned the fixtures. 

She was on her last light when her attention drifted down to the main floor of the antique store. Duncan was listening intently to something an elderly, gray-haired woman was telling him. Tessa had to smile. Her lover had a way of making anyone feel like they were the most important person in the world. Sometimes, she wondered how she'd ever gotten so lucky to have him in her life.

She continued to watch him for several moments, enjoying the opportunity to observe Duncan without him being aware of it. Suddenly, the front door burst open, and he glanced over toward it. His eyes shifted up and he spotted Tessa on the catwalk. He smiled at her before returning his attention to the customer.

For some reason, Tessa felt heat flood through her cheeks at the thought of being caught spying on Duncan. She stepped back, almost forgetting where she was for the moment. It wasn't until her foot hit the bucket that she remembered what she had been doing. She glanced down in time to see the bucket tipping and she grabbed for it, but it was too late. The soapy, ammonia-laced water spilled out over the catwalk and through the open gridwork toward the floor below--straight toward the person who was walking under the catwalk.

"Richie! Look out!" Tessa screamed.

It was the worst thing she could have done. 

Richie paused and looked up.

It was the worst thing he could have done.

He gave an anguished scream as the water splashed onto his face and into his eyes. Too late, he raised his hands, trying to protect himself, even as his screams echoed through the store. 

Tessa was frozen in place, unable to move as the disaster unfolded before her. Fortunately, Duncan reacted quicker. He was at Richie's side, reaching for the young man's hands, even as the teenager collapsed to his knees.

"Don't rub your eyes, Richie," Duncan ordered, finding it hard to hold onto Richie as the young man struggled. "You'll only make it worse." He finally wrapped his arms around the teenager, lifting him to his feet. He half-carried, half-dragged Richie to the bathroom off the antique store. He wasted no time turning on the water and sticking the young man's face directly in its stream.

Richie's screams of pain had stopped, but Duncan could feel the shudders running through the young man's body. He had to support the teenager to keep him on his feet. 

"Open your eyes, Richie. We need to flush them out."

"They hurt, Mac." The words were spoken so low, Duncan could barely make them out.

"I know, but you have to open them," Duncan ordered in a stern voice. For a moment, he thought he'd have to pry the teenager's eyes open, but Richie finally obeyed. 

Tessa joined them at that point, having recovered her wits by the time Duncan had gotten to Richie. But she'd been on the catwalk and it had taken her a few moments to get back to the main floor.

"I'm so sorry, Richie," she said, practically in tears. "I tried to warn you. Je suis desolee." 

Duncan could tell that Tessa was on the verge of hysterics, but that wouldn't help matters. He had to get her focused on helping instead of blaming herself.

"What was in the water?" he asked.

"Soap and ammonia," she replied. "Will he be all right?"

"Get the first aid kit." Duncan avoided answering the question. Only a doctor could tell them that. Tessa nodded and hurried away.

"Would you like me to call 911?" a woman's voice asked.

Duncan glanced over at the doorway and saw the customer he'd been helping before the accident. "Thank you, but by the time they got here, we'd be at the hospital already." 

"Can I help in any other way?"

Duncan shook his head. "No, I think we can manage, but thanks anyway."

"I hope he'll be all right."

"I hope so, too," Duncan replied softly. "I hope so, too."

The woman turned and left once Tessa returned. Dimly, Duncan heard the store door open, then close. He hoped it wasn't a new customer because neither he nor Tessa had the time to wait on anyone. He glanced at his watch, then decided that he'd flushed Richie's eyes long enough. He reached out and shut off the water. Tessa handed him a towel, and he lightly patted the teenager's face.

"Close your eyes, Richie, and keep them closed," Duncan said as he helped the teenager stand up. He quickly stripped off Richie's t-shirt which had also been doused with the cleaning solution, then sponged off the teenager's back, shoulders, and chest. 

"Tessa, I'll need some gauze pads, and the rolled gauze, too. Richie, I'm going to put the pads on your eyes to protect them until we can get to the hospital." He worked quickly, taking the pads from Tessa, soaking them in water, then lightly placing them on Richie's eyes. Then he took the roll of gauze and wrapped it around the teenager's head to secure the pads. 

When he finished, he turned to Tessa. "Close up the shop, and get a clean shirt for Richie while I help him out to the car. Also, bring the bottles of the soap and ammonia that you used. The doctors may want to see the ingredients. Okay, Richie, we'll take it nice and easy. Just trust me--I won't let you run into anything or fall."

Richie nodded and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Okay, Mac."

Tessa hurried out of the bathroom ahead of them to lock the front door and put up the closed sign. Duncan placed one arm around Richie's shoulders, and slowly started walking. It wasn't easy to maneuver the teenager through the antique store without bumping into anything. Several times, Duncan was tempted to just pick Richie up and carry him, but he knew that the teenager wouldn't appreciate it very much. So he continued on guiding Richie's hesitant steps. Finally, they made it through the office, then through Tessa's workshop. 

Tessa was waiting for them at the backdoor and she handed over a clean t-shirt. Duncan helped Richie into it, then headed outside with the teenager. Tessa hurried ahead and opened the front door of the T-bird before climbing into the back seat. It didn't take long to get Richie into the car, then Duncan hurried around to the driver's seat.

It seemed to take forever to get to the hospital. Duncan would have sworn that every stoplight they had come to had turned red just as they approached, even though he knew it hadn't been true. It didn't help that every time he turned his head a little to the right, he could see Richie's bandaged head. Finally, he pulled up at the emergency entrance and dropped off Tessa and Richie before going to park the car. 

Duncan hurried back inside, and found the pair at the registration desk giving the clerk information. Tessa was doing most of the talking, but occasionally Richie had to provide some of the answers, which he did in a monotone. Duncan placed one hand on the teenager's shoulder, which caused Richie to jump.

"I'm sorry, Rich. I didn't mean to startle you," Duncan apologized, cursing himself silently. He should have said something first.

"That's okay, Mac." Once again, the words were spoken in a monotone.

The clerk pulled a piece of paper out of her computer printer and slid it across the counter. "If you'll just sign at the bottom, then you can have a seat in the waiting room. It shouldn't be too long."

Duncan signed the form, then helped Richie to his feet and over to a chair in the waiting room. Tessa sat down next to the teenager and reached for his hand. At first there was no response from Richie, but soon he was holding on to Tessa as if his life depended on it. 

It was so unusual to see Richie sitting still, without saying a word. Despite the number of times that Duncan had wished for just that, now he would give anything to have the young man making smart-aleck remarks and bouncing around the room. 

They only had to wait ten minutes before their name was called and they were taken down a hallway to an examining room. The young nurse who had accompanied them took Richie's temperature, pulse and blood pressure, writing them all down on a chart. As she finished, a middle-aged man came into the room.

"I'm Doctor Mercer," he announced. "I'm an ophthalmologist. I understand Richie got something splashed in his eyes."

Tessa handed over the bag that she'd brought along. "I had these mixed with water."

The doctor pulled the bottles out of the bag and studied the labels. "How long ago?"

Duncan glanced at his watch. "Maybe thirty-five minutes. We flushed his eyes with water right away."

"That's good. All right, let's take a look." He walked over to a nearby counter and picked up some scissors. "Richie, I'm going to remove the bandages. I want you to keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them." He cut the bandage wrapped around the teenager's head, then removed the gauze pads, dropping them into a metal bowl the nurse was holding. Finally, he pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and clicked it on.

"Do your eyes burn now?" the doctor asked.

"A little bit," Richie admitted. "But not as bad as when it first happened."

"Okay. Go ahead and open your eyes slowly." Dr. Mercer aimed the flashlight toward Richie's eyes as they slowly fluttered open. He studied them carefully, before clicking the light off. 

"Is the room dark?" Richie asked suddenly, panic filling his voice.

"No, it's not," the doctor replied. "Why?"

"I... I can't see anything! I'm blind!" 

*****

Three hours later, Duncan watched as a nurse re-bandaged Richie's eyes. They'd been through a series of tests, but the doctor hadn't said anything about the results yet. Richie was holding up better than Tessa, who was obviously struggling with feelings of guilt, but he was still too quiet.

The doctor came back into the room carrying Richie's file. He placed it on the counter and stuck his hands in his pockets, before facing them. "Richie's corneas have been badly burned, but the damage may not be permanent. I'd like you to come back... let's see, this is Wednesday... why don't you come back on Monday, and we'll see if there's any improvement."

"And if there isn't?" Tessa asked.

"Well, it's a little early to worry about that, but we would have to consider corneal transplants. What's important right now, is that Richie gets plenty of rest and time to heal."

"We'll make sure he rests," Duncan promised.

The doctor pulled a prescription pad and a pen out of his pocket. "I'm going to prescribe some drops that will need to be put in Richie's eyes twice a day. Try to keep the light at a minimum while you do it. The darker the room, the better. And only open the eyelid enough to place the drops in. I'll also prescribe some sleeping pills, and some pain medication." He scribbled out the prescriptions and passed them over to Duncan. "I'll see you next week." He then left the room.

"Ready to go home?" Duncan asked, once the nurse had finished her task.

"I guess. There's not much else I can do."

Duncan couldn't decide whether it was despair or self-pity that he was hearing in Richie's voice. The next few days were going to be hard on the teenager, but the Immortal had a feeling it was going to be rough for all of them. 

*****

Duncan unlocked the back door of the antique store, opened it, then guided Richie inside. Tessa followed them as he led the teenager towards the apartment. 

"Here are the stairs," he warned. "Step up, Richie."

The teenager managed the first one, then tripped on the second. Only Duncan's quick reflexes kept Richie from pitching headfirst into the apartment door.

"Be careful, Richie," Tessa cautioned from behind them.

"How?" Richie burst out, angrily. "I can't see anything and it's all your fault!"

Duncan winced as he heard Tessa gasp. It was a cruel thing to say, but he knew Richie was just lashing out because he was afraid. "It wasn't Tessa's fault--it was just an accident." 

There was no reply to that from the teenager. Duncan got Richie safely inside, then led him over to the couch. "Why don't you lay down and rest while I fix us something to eat?"

"I'm not hungry. I want to go to my room."

"All right." Duncan led Richie to his room. "Stand there for a minute," he ordered before going over to the bed and pulling back the bedspread. He returned to Richie and helped him to sit down on the edge of the bed so he could remove the teenager's shoes. Richie scooted back on the bed and searched with his hand until he found his pillow. Using that as a reference point, he stretched out on the bed. Duncan pulled the bedspread up over the young man. 

"Do you need anything?"

Richie shook his head.

"All right. Try to get some rest. If you need anything, just yell. I'll check up on you in a little while."

Duncan returned to the living room where he found Tessa sitting on the couch, silently crying. He quickly hurried to her side and wrapped his arms around her. "It wasn't your fault," he pointed out again.

"Yes, it was. I'm always telling Richie to be more careful, and then I do something stupid like this. Richie could be blind for the rest of his life, and it would all be my fault! How can I ever make that up to him?"

"First off, we don't know whether Richie will be blind for the rest of his life, or not." Duncan could only hope that he wouldn't be for several reasons. First, and foremost, was that he knew it would be hard for the young man to give up some of his favorite activities, such as riding his motorcycle. His other major concern was that he had no idea if this kind of injury would fix itself when Richie died his first mortal death. He wouldn't last long as a blind Immortal. "If he is, then we'll help him learn how to overcome his handicap. Others have done it. But you can't keep blaming yourself. That won't help you or him."

Tessa nodded, and tried to pull herself together. Duncan continued holding her until she finally pushed him away so that she could stand up. "Why don't you get Richie's prescriptions filled, and I'll clean up the mess in the store?" she offered, taking a deep breath and pasting a determined expression on her face.

Duncan wasn't certain that he should leave Tessa and Richie alone just yet, but then decided that he wouldn't be gone for that long. "All right. And I'll stop at the grocery store on the way home. Maybe a little comfort food like hamburgers and french fries will make Richie feel better, too."

*****

Tessa took a few moments to splash cold water on her face. Nothing would alleviate the puffiness around her eyes except for time, but at least she felt a little better. Then she headed out to the shop to mop up. The wood floor had definitely suffered from its contact with her cleaning solution as well. They'd have to refinish that section of the floor, but it could wait for a few days.

When she'd finished, she went back into the apartment. For the longest time she stared at the closed door to Richie's bedroom, wondering if she should check in on him. If he was sleeping, she didn't want to wake him, and there was also a very strong possibility that Richie wanted nothing to do with her. Not that she could blame him. She'd probably be bitter if the situation had been reversed.

Finally, she steeled her nerve and carefully opened the door to peer inside. "Richie, are you awake?" she said softly.

"Go away."

Tessa ignored that comment, walking over to sit on the side of the bed. She reached out with one hand to brush back Richie's hair, but the teenager turned his head away at her touch. "Why don't you come out to the living room? You can stretch out on the couch and we can talk, or you can listen to music. Whatever you want."

"I *want* to see again," Richie retorted.

Tessa was determined to cheer him up. "And I'm sure that next week you will. But there's nothing we can do about it right now. Is there anything else you'd like? Some orange juice? Or maybe some soda?"

"I want to be left alone." 

Richie rolled over so that his back was to her. Tessa tried to think of something else to say, but nothing came to mind. So she decided to give him what he wanted.

*****

Duncan slid the last cooked hamburger patty onto a platter, and looked over at Tessa. "Do you want to go bring Richie to the table? Dinner's almost ready."

She came into the kitchen and took the platter from him. "Maybe you should go instead," she suggested. "I'll finish up here."

Duncan gave a silent sigh before heading to Richie's bedroom. Ever since he'd returned from his errands, Tessa had not gone anywhere near the teenager's room. When he'd asked if something had happened while he was gone, Tessa had only told him no. 

He lightly tapped on Richie's door, then opened it. "Dinner's ready," he announced as he walked into the room. The teenager was curled up on his side, his back to the door. The bedspread had been kicked down to the end of the bed.

"I'm not hungry," Richie replied without moving.

"You have to eat something, Richie," Duncan insisted. He didn't like talking to Richie's back, but he had a feeling that if he walked around the bed, Richie would just roll over. "I made hamburgers and french fries." Normally, that would have been enough to send Richie running to the table.

"I'm. Not. Hungry."

"Listen, Richie. You can't hide in this bedroom without eating or drinking anything for the next four days. Besides, you need to keep your body fueled so it can heal itself. Starving yourself won't help anything."

"Fine. Then bring me a tray and I'll eat in here."

"Why don't you want to eat with us?"

Richie finally rolled over so that he was facing Duncan. "Because I'll probably make a mess of everything! I won't be able to see what I'm doing!"

"We know that, Richie. It's not a problem."

With a sigh, Richie sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "All right, Mac. I'll try." He slowly stood up, then held out his hands shoulder high and took a few steps forward.

Duncan decided there was no better time to start teaching Richie how to live in a dark world. He'd made a stop at the library while he was running errands and found a book on helping blind people become self-sufficient. He'd been studying it all afternoon.

He reached out and pulled Richie's hands down so they were only waist high. "If you want to keep from bumping into things, your hands need to be down here. That's where you'll find furniture." He let go of one hand and placed the other in the crook of his arm. "Follow me."

They successfully negotiated the living room and reached the dining room without bumping into anything. Richie's steps had been tentative, but he'd managed it. "Good job, Rich," Duncan said as he helped the teenager into his chair. "What would you like to drink with dinner?"

"Milk, please."

Duncan fetched him a glass then joined Richie and Tessa at the table. "What would you like on your hamburger?"

Following Richie's direction, Duncan fixed the sandwich, added fries to the plate and put it in front of the teenager. "Okay, the hamburger is at 3:00, the fries are at 9:00 and the catsup is at 12:00. Your milk is at 1:00."

"Huh?" Richie looked bewildered.

"Think about a clock face--that's your plate. When it's 3:00, the little hand is pointing at the three. So, where would your hamburger be?"

Richie carefully reached out and found the plate. He then moved his right hand up to the correct position and found the hamburger. Next, he moved his left hand up to the opposite side and found the french fries. "I've got it."

"Good. Tonight you don't have to worry about forks or spoons or anything like that. Strictly finger-food."

Richie picked up the hamburger with both hands, and managed to take a bite of it. Duncan and Tessa watched him as he ate another bite, then set it back down on his plate. "This isn't so difficult," he said.

"We'll have to think of more challenging foods," Duncan teased him, before turning his attention to his own meal.

Richie seemed to gain confidence as he ate a few french fries, then some more of his hamburger. However, disaster struck as he reached for his milk and knocked the glass over. Duncan and Tessa quickly jumped up as the liquid spread across the table. When the Scot went to get some towels from the kitchen, Richie sent his arm sweeping across the table in front of him, sending his plate crashing to the floor.

"I told you this wouldn't work!" he yelled as he stood up.

Duncan tossed the towels to Tessa and let her finish cleaning up while he went over to the teenager. "Sit down, Richie, and I'll make you a fresh plate."

"Why? So I can spill everything all over again?" The agitated teenager tried to turn away from the table.

Duncan almost forcibly sat him back down. "The only thing you spilled was your milk, and that was an accident that we would have understood. Your plate was another story altogether. That was an act of sheer childishness and that won't be tolerated," he said sternly. "I know this isn't easy for you, but that doesn't mean we're going to let you get away with that kind of behavior, either."

He quickly assembled another plate of food and put it in front of the teenager. "Now, eat," he ordered before getting the broom and dustpan to clean up the mess on the floor. 

While he was doing that Tessa fetched another glass of milk, and put it down in front of the teenager. "Here is some more milk, Richie. I didn't fill it quite as full this time so if it spills again, there won't be as much to clean up."

"It's not going to spill because I'm not going to eat anything."

Duncan returned to the table in time to hear that comment. "We've been over this already, Richie. You need to eat, but I'm not going to keep arguing with you about it. If you don't want to eat, then you can just sit there and wallow in self-pity."

"Duncan!" Tessa protested. "There's no need to be so cruel!"

"Yes, it is needed," Duncan said. He placed one hand on Richie's shoulder and squeezed lightly. "Rich, you've had something horrible happen to you, and it may change your life forever. We can only hope and pray that everything will come out all right. But we have a long four days ahead of us. If you continue with this attitude, it's going to seem a lot longer than that. Tessa and I are both willing to help you get through this, but we need your cooperation, too. It's up to you to decide how you want this time to go." He released Richie and turned back to his now-cold meal.

Silence reigned at the table. Duncan and Tessa made an attempt to eat, but neither of them were putting much effort into it. 

Finally, Richie gave a shaky sigh. "I'm sorry. You were right. I was acting like a kid." He reached out for his plate.

Duncan grabbed his hand before it got there. He knew that admission hadn't been easy for the young man. "The food is cold, now. How about I run out and get some pizza instead?"

"You don't have to," Richie protested. "I can eat this."

"I want to," Duncan insisted. "Tessa and I don't like cold food, either." 

"That's a good idea," Tessa agreed. "I'll clean up this mess while you are gone."

*****

Richie stifled a sigh as he was guided over to his bed, knowing that soon he would be left alone. He'd been forced to spend the whole evening with Duncan and Tessa. Oh, they hadn't tied him down or anything like that, but he didn't want them to accuse him of being childish again. Not that he really blamed Duncan for that--he had been acting like a kid. 

They just didn't understand how difficult this was for him. Sure, they said all the right words, but they didn't *understand*. They didn't know what it was like to be in the dark constantly. He had never liked the dark but, until now, he'd always been able to find light somewhere when he needed it.

He couldn't imagine going through life being blind. How could he enjoy television again when he couldn't see what was on? Riding motorcycles--and his secret desire to race them some day--was out of the question. No more roller-blading through the park. He wouldn't be able to continue working in the antique store, either. He knew Duncan and Tessa wouldn't throw him out--especially if he was blind--but he couldn't accept that kind of charity for long.

Not that he knew what he would do, or where he would go. He couldn't go back to his old way of life. You had to be able to see to be able to break into places. The only blind person he knew supported himself by begging on the streets. Somehow, he couldn't see himself doing that.

"Time to put drops in your eyes," Duncan said, interrupting his thoughts.

Richie held still while the bandage was unwound and the pads were removed from his eyes. For a moment he was tempted to try to see something, but then decided not to risk it. He heard Duncan move away, then in a few moments he was back, and Richie felt a warm washcloth gently bathing his face. 

"Okay, tilt your head back. Let me do all the work. The room is dark and I'll be quick about it so your eyes won't be open that long."

Richie felt Duncan's hands on his head, then his right eyelid was raised just high enough and long enough for two drops of liquid to drip down. His left eye received the same quick treatment, and he felt new pads being placed on his eyes. The final step of wrapping another bandage around his head took almost no time at all.

"All finished. Now then, what do you wear to bed?"

"Pajama bottoms, top drawer." He never used to wear anything but a t-shirt and shorts to bed, but Tessa had given him pajamas at Christmas so he felt obligated to wear them. Well, maybe obligated wasn't the right word, but he'd never really analyzed why he'd started wearing them.

"Here you go." Duncan placed the pajamas in Richie's hand. "Do you need help changing?"

Richie could feel warmth creep up into his cheeks. "I think I can manage."

"Okay. I'll go get a glass of water so you can take your sleeping pill."

Richie hurriedly changed into his pajamas, then decided he needed to go to the bathroom. He stood up, then slowly turned in what was hopefully the right direction. Surely he could do this himself. He'd been over this path more times than he could remember--including times in the dark. For some reason, it was harder knowing he couldn't see where he was going, but he managed.

When he opened the bathroom door back up, Duncan's voice greeted him.

"Climb into bed, Richie, then you can take your medication."

Knowing the Scot was watching him made Richie nervous, and he bumped into his bed and almost fell. He recovered, then moved up toward the head of the bed. The covers had already been turned down, making it easy to climb in.

"Hold your hands out," Duncan said, once Richie was in bed. "Here's the water," a glass was placed in his left hand, "and your sleeping pill," which was placed in his right hand.

Richie closed his hand around the pill. It wasn't very big. "How strong is this pill?"

"It must be pretty strong. The pharmacist strongly recommended that you be in bed before you take it."

"Oh." Without another word, he raised the hand containing the pill to his mouth, then brought up the glass of water and drained it. He handed back the glass to Duncan, then slid down into bed.

"Do you need a pain pill?" Duncan asked.

"No. My eyes don't hurt that much."

"All right. If you need anything during the night, just yell. I'll leave the bedroom doors open so we can hear you." Duncan pulled the covers up to Richie's chest. "Sleep tight."

"Good night, Mac." Richie rolled over onto his side, his back to the door. He could hear Duncan's footsteps as the headed across the room. It wasn't until he was sure he was alone, that he reached over to the nightstand and carefully opened the drawer. Inside was a small tin box where he kept a stash of money for emergencies. He quickly emptied it out, then put the sleeping pill he hadn't taken inside the box.

He would have five pills by the time he went back to the doctor's. He didn't know if that would be enough to do the trick, but he hoped so. If it turned out that he could see, he would get rid of them, and no one would be the wiser. And if it turned out the other way... well, he had no intention of living the rest of his life blind.

*****

Thursday:

Richie woke in a panic, and desperately reached for the bedside lamp to switch it on. Nothing happened, and he felt his panic rising. Then he realized why the light hadn't helped. The urge to rip off the bandages was overwhelming, and he let out a small moan as he struggled against it. He had to do something, but he wasn't quite sure what.

He struggled out of bed, fighting the bedclothes as they seemed to wrap themselves around his legs. In his haste, he bumped up against the nightstand, sending the lamp and clock crashing to the floor. Richie didn't know which way to move, afraid that he'd step on something.

"Richie, what's wrong?" Tessa's voice broke into his darkness.

He could only shake his head, still too overwhelmed with panic to be able to explain. He heard noises that he couldn't identify, then jumped when Tessa touched his arm.

"Just take one step back," she coaxed him, "then you can sit down on the bed. Are you in pain? I can get you a pain pill."

Richie shook his head again, then let Tessa guide him back to his bed. He couldn't seem to stop shaking, and she must have realized it because he felt her arm across his shoulders.

"Tell me what's wrong, Richie."

He didn't want to. He really didn't. But, for some reason, he found himself blurting it out. "It's so dark, Tessa! I'm trapped in the dark!"

"Oh, Richie." 

It sounded like she was near tears. He knew he was close to shedding his own, too. Then both of her arms were wrapped around him, and he rested his head on her shoulder while she gently rocked him. It gave him such a feeling of security, and he could feel himself slowly start to relax.

"Feeling better?" she finally asked.

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For waking you up, for starters."

"You didn't wake me up. It's just after seven--I was already up. Duncan is out running, otherwise he'd be in here, too."

A part of Richie was glad that the Highlander hadn't seen him like this. And this seemed the perfect time for an apology.

"I'm sorry about those things I said yesterday, Tessa. I know it was just an accident. I shouldn't have tried to blame you for this."

"Oh, Richie." It sounded like she was near tears again. "Thank you for that, but I still feel responsible. I should have been more careful."

"Well, let this be a lesson to you," Richie chided her, falling back on his normal smart remarks to defuse the emotional scene.

Tessa hugged him tighter, then released him. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, before suggesting, "Why don't I get out some clean clothes, and you can get dressed before breakfast is ready."

"I need to take a shower."

"I don't know... I guess it would be okay, but try to keep your bandages dry. I'll help you wash your hair later today." He listened as she moved around his bedroom. "All right. I've put clothes on the bed for you. Let me help you into the bathroom." 

Tessa took his hand and gave it a little tug so that he would stand up. Then she led him over to the bathroom, where she started the shower. For a moment he wondered if she intended to help him with his shower, but she said, "You should be all set. If you need any help, just shout. Duncan should be back soon." Richie heard her leave the room, shutting the door behind her.

*****

Richie managed the shower easily enough, but shaving seemed too risky to attempt. He did manage to brush his teeth on his own, then he got dressed. Finally, he headed over to his bedroom door and opened it. Using the wall to guide him, he took the few steps needed to reach the living room, then he stopped. There was no way he could cross that room on his own. Instead of a normal living room, it had become a maze filled with pitfalls and landmines. He'd either fall down and hurt himself, or knock into something and break it.

"Tessa? Mac?" he called out. Surely one of them had to be around. They wouldn't have left him alone--would they?

"I'm here, Richie."

Just the sound of Tessa's voice sent a wave of relief through him. "Is it time for breakfast yet?" It wasn't the smartest thing to ask, but it was better than asking for help to cross the living room.

"Not quite, but you can join me while I finish it," Tessa suggested.

"Okay." He felt her hand take his, and he let her lead him across the room to his chair in the dining room.

"Do you want some orange juice?"

"Sure." It would give him something to do.

After giving him a glass of juice, Tessa returned to the kitchen. She started chattering away about things she wanted to change around in the antique store. Fortunately, it didn't require him to make any comments, otherwise he might have said something nasty. There was no way he could be involved in making the changes unless his sight came back.

"Good morning, Rich," Duncan greeted him. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, I did." There was no way he'd say anything else. He didn't want Duncan to know he hadn't taken the sleeping pill. Although he had been surprised that he'd fallen asleep so quickly the night before.

*****

Eating scrambled eggs for breakfast had been a challenge. Richie knew he must have looked ridiculous when he'd lifted his fork to his mouth only to find nothing on it, but he hadn't heard a single giggle or laugh from Duncan and Tessa. They'd just kept on talking about the changes Tessa had in mind for the store. 

Several times Richie'd become so frustrated that he'd almost thrown his plate across the room, but he'd just barely managed to keep himself under control by remembering Duncan's reaction from the night before. He must have managed to eat enough to satisfy the couple because neither said a word when he'd announced that he was finished.

Now he sat on the living room couch, feeling lonelier than he ever had in his entire life. He knew Tessa and Duncan were in the antique store, but that seemed like another country at this point. He had no idea how long he'd been sitting here--he couldn't just look at his watch to judge time anymore.

Moving from this spot wasn't an option, either. It would have been different if he'd been in his own room. At least there, he'd be less likely to run into anything. He might even be able to figure out how to put a CD in his player so he could listen to music. He thought about yelling for Duncan so that he could go to his room, but he didn't want to bother the Scot if he was working. He also didn't want to be considered a nuisance. 

Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, he heard someone walking toward him.

"Time to put drops in your eyes, Richie," Duncan said as he drew closer.

Richie stood up, glad to be able to move around now that he had help. They went into his bathroom where Duncan efficiently removed the old bandages, placed the medication in Richie's eyes, then re-bandaged them.

"Decided to skip shaving this morning?" Duncan asked as he finished up.

"Thought I'd go for a new fashion style." Richie wondered what had happened to his ask-for-help reflex. It seemed to have disappeared again. It was just like his first few months of living with Duncan.

"Think again."

Richie sighed, and forced the words out. "Would you help me shave?"

"Oh, I think you can manage on your own, but I'll stay in case you run into problems."

"Manage on my own!" Richie's voice almost squeaked in protest. "How?"

"You've been shaving yourself for quite some time. Don't think about doing it--just do it."

With shaky hands, Richie opened the medicine cabinet door, and searched for the can of shaving cream. He managed to squirt some in his palm without too much difficulty, then spread it on his face. Next, he found his razor, then slowly placed the first stroke. His confidence grew after a few strokes, and he realized Duncan had been correct. This had only seemed difficult because he'd thought about it.

When he thought he was finished, he turned to face Duncan. "How'd I do?"

"Not too bad, but you missed a few spots. Use your hand to find where there's still lather on your face."

Richie carefully searched his face until he found the spots. 

"Good job, Richie. Now, on to your next lesson. We're going to learn how to get around the apartment so you don't have to depend on Tessa or me to be here to help you." Duncan turned Richie a little bit. "Okay, so you're at the door of your bathroom. I want you to take a regular stride and count your steps. I won't let you run into anything. We're going to the foot of your bed."

Richie carefully started forward, his hands held out, but Duncan pulled him back. 

"No, no... take a normal stride, otherwise this will never work."

Richie tried again, counting out loud. At 'five', he reached his bed.

"All right, so now you know how many steps it will take to get to or from your bathroom. Now we'll aim for the door."

Richie finally understood what Duncan was doing. He started out more comfortably this time. This time it only took four strides.

"Okay. The hallway is easier because you can touch the wall the whole way, if necessary. First we'll go to my bedroom, then we'll tackle the living room."

The lesson seemed to drag on forever, and Richie had to struggle to remember all the different numbers. No matter how hard he tried, he always messed up in the living room or kitchen area. He'd lost track of the number of times Duncan had to save him from tripping over something or stumbling on the various steps.

"This is a waste of time!" Richie finally blurted out, totally frustrated. "I'm never going to get this right! Besides, in a few days it won't matter one way or another!"

Richie could almost feel the silence that filled the room after that statement, and he suddenly realized what he'd said.

"What do you mean by that?" Duncan's voice sounded cold and angry.

He briefly thought about trying to bluff, but decided it wasn't worth it. "Next week, I'll either be able to see, or I... well, I don't intend to spend the rest of my life being blind."

"And how were you going to keep that from happening?" It didn't seem possible for Duncan's voice to be any colder, but he'd managed it.

Richie wasn't going to give up that secret. If he did, Duncan would make sure he didn't get any more sleeping pills. "I haven't decided yet."

"I don't believe you," Duncan said, gripping the young man's arm tightly. "You sounded like you've already figured out what you're going to do, so you might as well tell me. Or should I start by searching your room?"

Richie struggled to free his arm, but Duncan maintained his grip. He knew there was no way he'd be able to stop the Scot from searching his room and he'd probably find the pill. "I didn't take my sleeping pill last night. I was going to save them and then take them all if my sight doesn't come back."

"Where did you put it?"

"In a box in my nightstand."

Duncan took Richie's arm and led him back to his bedroom. The young man opened the nightstand drawer, pulled out the box, and handed it to the Scot who took it from him.

"I'll be right back." 

Richie listened as the footsteps went away from him, but he didn't have long to wait until they came back. Duncan handed the box back to him.

"The whole bottle of sleeping pills is in there. I won't waste either of our time by trying to get you to take one when you're supposed to."

Richie couldn't believe his ears. Duncan wasn't going to protest? He wasn't going to hide the pills from him?

"I didn't realize you were such a quitter. I guess I was wrong about you, after all," Duncan said, disappointment evident in every word. He walked away, leaving the stunned Richie by himself.

*****

Duncan stormed across the apartment, through Tessa's workshop, and into the antique store office. Right now, he'd welcome an Immortal challenge. He wanted to hit something--destroy something--anything to release some of his anger. The worst part of it was, he wasn't sure who he was angrier with--Richie or himself.

He never would have guessed that Richie would even think about committing suicide. It just didn't seem to match the young man's personality. He'd always seemed to be a fighter, and willing to do whatever it took to survive.

Was being blind so terrifying? Yes, Richie's life would have to change, but that didn't mean he couldn't have a happy and fulfilled one. The only problem was, Duncan wasn't sure he could convince Richie of that.

Duncan sank down onto the desk chair as he tried to figure out his own reaction to Richie's wish to kill himself. By giving the young man the bottle of sleeping pills, he'd virtually given him permission to commit suicide. How could he have done that? If the news was bad, could he stand by and do nothing, knowing that Richie was probably swallowing a bottle of sleeping pills?

Had he done it because, deep inside, he hoped it would keep Richie from becoming an Immortal? He couldn't be sure, but he'd heard that a slow death wouldn't trigger immortality. Would this qualify? Or was that just one of those tales that get started, but have no basis in reality? Did any death trigger immortality?

Even if he did go back and take away the pills, how could he watch Richie twenty-four hours a day? There were so many ways a person could commit suicide.

"Duncan? Is there something wrong?"

He looked up to see Tessa standing in the doorway with a concerned expression on her face. How did he tell Tessa about what had happened? She was already feeling guilty about the accident. If Richie did commit suicide, it would tear her apart. 

"No, just thinking. Did you need something?"

"There is a customer who would like more information on the suit of armor. Could you come out and talk to him?"

"Of course," Duncan agreed, standing up. Maybe if he turned his mind to other things for a while, he'd be able to come up with a solution later.

*****

Richie sat on his bed and tried to figure out what had just happened. He'd really expected Duncan to take away the sleeping pills, but the Scot hadn't done that. Maybe he just didn't care whether Richie killed himself or not. Or maybe he was afraid that he'd be stuck taking care of Richie for the rest of his life. But then he'd called Richie a quitter. 

He wasn't a quitter! This had nothing to do with quitting. He just didn't want to be dependent on someone for the rest of his life. That's all it was.

So why did he feel so bad? Why had the disappointment in Duncan's voice made him feel about three inches tall?

Why did he feel like crying?

*****

Richie had no idea how much time had passed when he heard a light tapping on his door. A moment later, he heard it open and Tessa ask, "Are you ready for lunch?"

Richie shook his head. The way his stomach was still churning around, anything he ate would come right back up. He wondered if Duncan had told her about his plans. "I... I don't feel too good." 

He heard her cross the room, then felt the bed tilt slightly as she sat down. Next he felt her cool hand on his forehead. "You don't feel like you have a fever. Are you in pain? Should I call the doctor?"

"No, I'll...I'll be okay," Richie finally stuttered out. "I'm...I'm just tired, that's all. I think I'll take a nap." He slid down to a flat position in his bed, and turned his head away from Tessa.

He felt a light touch on his cheek, and realized she'd kissed him. If anything, it made him feel worse than before. He didn't say anything as Tessa pulled the bedspread up over him, too busy struggling to hold back his tears until she had left the room.

*****

Tessa started heating soup for lunch, then prepared a salad for herself and Duncan to eat while thinking about Richie. Something was not right, but she didn't have a clue what it could be. She had a feeling that it had something to do with Duncan, as well. Her lover had been very quiet ever since he'd joined her in the antique store.

Knowing the pair of them, they had probably had another fight. They were both way too stubborn for their own good, and sometimes that led to clashes. Usually, they blew over fairly quickly, but it wouldn't hurt to remind Duncan that he needed to have a little more patience with Richie right now.

She couldn't imagine what Richie was going through. Tessa shut her eyes, and tried to make her way over to the dining room table to see if she could get some idea of how difficult it was. She managed it without too much difficulty, but she'd only had to take a few steps. 

Tessa opened her eyes and surveyed the living room, immediately seeing that it would be a much bigger challenge. She couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like to go outside and find your way around if you were blind. Of course, they weren't that far from the bus stop. She knew the bus drivers would be sympathetic to a blind person and tell them when they arrived at their destination. That would give Richie a sense of independence if he could get around without waiting for Duncan or Tessa to take him somewhere.

But where could he go? What did blind people do? She really didn't have a clue. She knew that if she had been the one who'd been blinded, that she would have had to give up many of her favorite activities. It would be hard to enjoy art galleries and museums without being able to see.

Tessa sighed and returned to the counter to fetch her salad. She ate quickly, then went out to take Duncan's place in the store. 

"Did Richie eat something?" Duncan asked when she joined him.

"No, he said he wasn't feeling well. He doesn't seem to have a fever, and wasn't in any pain. Did he say anything to you this morning?"

Duncan's attention was suddenly focused on the display case next to him. "No, he didn't say anything," he said casually, as he moved several items around, then moved them back to their original locations.

"All right. What happened?" Tessa had a feeling Duncan knew exactly what was behind Richie's sudden illness.

Duncan sighed. "We had a... disagreement."

"About what?"

"That's between me and Richie."

Tessa wasn't so sure about that, but she recognized the stubborn look on her lover's face. "Just remember that Richie needs lots of patience and understanding right now."

"Sometimes patience and understanding aren't the answer," Duncan said before walking away from her.

*****

Duncan took his time over lunch, dreading his next confrontation with Richie. He'd already decided how he was going to handle this, but he wasn't looking forward to the scene it would probably cause. He managed to waste more time cleaning up the kitchen, making sure all the counters were sparkling clean. Finally, he couldn't put it off any longer, and headed for the teenager's bedroom.

He knocked on the door, but when no answer came, he opened it anyway, figuring Richie was just being stubborn. He immediately saw the young man curled up on his bed, facing the door. While it was hard to tell without being able to see the eyes, he was fairly certain Richie was asleep. He didn't think the teenager would be lying there with his mouth partially open if he was still awake.

Duncan studied the young man, noting how vulnerable Richie looked while he was asleep. And how young. No one that young should even be thinking about suicide. That thought hardened his resolve to carry through his plan, even though he knew it wouldn't be easy.

He didn't want to disturb Richie's sleep, so Duncan quietly exited the room. His plan could wait for a while. With a feeling of relief, he headed back to the office.

*****

Duncan decided to fill Tessa in first. Without her support, this wasn't going to work. Unfortunately, that meant telling her about Richie's suicide plan. So, when the store finally closed, he called his lover into the office. While the living room would have been a more comfortable place to have a talk, he didn't want Richie to overhear their conversation.

The Scot arranged the chairs so he could sit facing Tessa, then took her hands in his. "Tessa, there's no easy way to say this. Richie let something slip this morning. He intends to commit suicide if his sight doesn't come back."

His lover tried to pull back, but he didn't let go of her hands. "Duncan! We have to stop him!"

"I know, but it won't be easy. Right now Richie is terrified about living in a dark world. The only solution I can come up with is to show him that he *can* manage."

"How do we do that?"

"By refusing to do anything for him."

"Nothing?" Tessa looked shocked at the thought. "How can you expect Richie to cook for himself?"

"All right--not everything. But he should be able to get around the apartment on his own. I've shown him how. And there's no reason why he can't make his bed, or do things like setting the table."

"I think I understand."

"We have to stick together on this. There will be times when it will seem like we're being cruel, but we have to make Richie understand that life doesn't end just because he can't see."

Tessa nodded. "Have you told Richie about this?"

"No. I think it would be better if we just start refusing to help him when it's something that he can do by himself."

Tessa nodded again, then stood up. Duncan released her hands, and stood up, too. He reached out and hugged her tightly.

*****

Duncan was just about to go wake Richie for dinner when he heard the teenager's bedroom door open. He moved over into the living area, giving Tessa's arm a quick squeeze as he walked past her.

"Mac? Tessa?" Richie called out from the edge of the living room.

"You're just in time for dinner," Duncan called back. "Come and sit down while Tessa and I finish up." He stayed where he was to see what Richie would do.

The young man took a few tentative steps, then stopped. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity before he finally spoke. "I... I need help getting to the dining room."

Duncan wanted to give in and help Richie. It had taken a long time to teach the young man that asking for help wasn't a bad thing. Now, he had to do just the opposite. "We're busy fixing dinner, Rich. You know how to get to the dining room on your own." He hoped that would be enough to motivate the teenager to try it on his own, but it wasn't.

"I can't!"

"Yes, you can," Duncan insisted. "If you want to eat, you're going to have to walk to the dining room on your own. End of discussion." He glanced back over his shoulder toward the kitchen. Tessa was clutching the countertop as if that was the only way she could keep from going to Richie's side.

The young man remained where he was, frozen in place, with a stunned look on his face. "Tessa?" he finally called out, his voice quavering slightly. "Please?"

Duncan heard Tessa moving toward the young man and put a hand out to stop her.

"I can't do this, Duncan," she whispered, a lone tear trickling down her cheek. "It is too cruel."

The Scot sighed, but let go of her arm. He couldn't really blame her--he felt like a heel, himself. He returned to the kitchen to finish carrying the food to the table while Tessa guided Richie to his seat.

There was very little conversation during dinner. Several times, Duncan started talking about something, but neither Tessa nor Richie seemed to be willing to keep the ball rolling. In fact, the teenager only spoke when asked a direct question, and kept his answer as short as possible. Whenever he wanted something, he would ask Tessa for it. Finally, Duncan gave up, and just concentrated on eating his own dinner.

"I'm done," Richie finally announced. "Can I go back to my room, Tessa?"

The Frenchwoman exchanged glances with Duncan. "In a few minutes, Richie. I am still eating. Why don't you take your plate over to the sink? It's only a few steps."

Richie looked like he was going to argue for a moment, then he pushed back his chair and stood up. Carefully, he picked up his plate and silverware, then turned in the correct direction. His first few steps were confident, then he slowed down, cautiously reaching out with one hand, searching for the edge of the kitchen island. Once he found that, he was able to move at a faster pace as he followed the counter around the kitchen to the sink. He then surprised them when he turned on the water and rinsed his plate.

"Thank you, Richie," Tessa said, as she carried her own plate over to the sink.

"Can I go back to my room now?" 

"Why don't you stay out here with us?" Tessa suggested.

"No, I want to go to my room. Will you take me there?"

"No, she won't," Duncan interrupted their conversation. He was going to give his idea one more shot. And this time, he was going to spell it out. "From this point on, you're going to have to find your own way around the apartment. If you want to eat, you have to come to the dining room on your own. And don't expect Tessa to come to your rescue again."

Richie looked shell-shocked, and Duncan almost regretted his words.

"Why?" the teenager finally asked.

"Because we have better things to do than waste our time on a quitter." It took all of Duncan's willpower to get that statement out in a cold but believable tone. 

"Tessa?" Richie sounded like he couldn't believe what was happening.

Duncan exchanged glances with the Frenchwoman. If she didn't back him up this time, he knew he'd never get another chance. It was a good thing that Richie couldn't see the tears rolling down her face. It would have given away the whole thing.

"I agree with Duncan," she finally said.

Richie gasped, then took a step backwards. "I thought we were friends!" he finally burst out, his voice rising in anger. "But friends aren't supposed to ditch each other when the going gets tough! Now I know where I stand--all I am is the hired help and you just don't want to waste your time on someone who can't do all those chores you don't like doing! Well, I'm sure you won't have any trouble finding someone to replace me after I'm gone."

Richie took another step back. "And let me tell you something else. I don't *need* your help. I've *never* needed your help. I was doing all right on my own before I met you, and I'll do fine on my own after this is all over!" He spun around, heading out of the kitchen, hands outstretched, trying to feel his way.

"Richie..." Duncan started to follow the young man, reaching out to grab his arm, but the young man shook him off.

"Leave me alone! I don't want your help!"

Duncan let him go, realizing that Richie was in no mood to listen to anything at this time. He watched as the teenager made his way to his bedroom, only then turning back to Tessa. Tears still rolled down her face, and he took her into his arms.

"Oh, Duncan, he hates us now," she said. "We shouldn't have done this."

"No, *I* shouldn't have done this. You were right earlier when you said it was too cruel. I should have listened to you, but I never thought he would react like this. I'll give Richie some time to calm down, then I'll have a talk with him."

*****

Richie tried to pace around his bedroom, but it wasn't easy. He kept bumping into his bed or dresser because he was too mad to keep track of where he was. At any other time, he'd have taken off on his motorcycle, but that wasn't an option now. He wanted to throw something. Hit something. Break something.

He knew he should let his anger go, but without it, other emotions would take over. And those emotions would be so much more painful. He'd been betrayed--not only by Duncan, but by Tessa, too. And that was the hardest thing of all to accept. How could she turn on him like that?

How many times had they told him he should have asked for help? Yet this time, they had turned away from him. Richie sank down on his bed as the pain of that betrayal washed through him. He knew Duncan could be ruthless when it suited him, but he'd never expected that of Tessa. 

With a deep effort, he called back the anger. It always blocked the pain of other emotions. He would show them that he didn't need their help.

He didn't need anyone's help.

And if his sight came back, he would look for a new place to live.

*****

Duncan knocked on Richie's bedroom door, clutching the eye medication in his other hand. It was a valid reason to invade the young man's room, and, hopefully, Richie would be ready to listen to him.

"Go away." 

Even muffled through the door, the tone made it obvious that Richie was still upset. Duncan ignored the order, and opened the door.

"It's time to put drops in your eyes," he said.

Richie sat up on his bed and held out a hand. "Give me the medicine, and I'll do it. I don't want to waste any of your valuable time. Especially on a quitter like me."

Duncan sighed, and walked across the room to stand in front of Richie. He reached out one hand, and lightly placed it on the young man's shoulder. It was immediately shrugged off, but the Scot refused to back off. 

"I'm sorry, Rich. I thought by making you do things on your own that you would realize that you could handle being blind. I was... desperate to come up with anything that would keep you from committing suicide if your sight doesn't come back. Do you understand?"

"Can we just get this over with?" Richie asked impatiently, reaching up to start removing the bandages wrapped around his head. 

Duncan wasn't sure whether Richie had listened to a word he'd said. Maybe Tessa would have a better chance of getting through to the young man. "All right. Let's go into the bathroom." 

It didn't take long to medicate Richie's eyes, then re-bandage them. The young man didn't say anything throughout the procedure. Duncan decided to try one more thing before he left.

"Richie, you were right earlier, when you said friends don't ditch each other when the going gets touch, and we *are* friends. It's too bad you didn't remember that when you decided to commit suicide. Because that's exactly what you're planning on doing--if you commit suicide, you will be ditching your friends when the going gets tough. It works both ways." Duncan turned and left the room, hoping that Richie would at least think about what he'd said.

Tessa was anxiously waiting for him in the living room. "Did you talk to Richie?" she asked as soon as Duncan came out of Richie's room.

"Well, I talked, but I don't know if he listened. You know how stubborn he can be when he wants to be."

"Yes, he's a lot like someone else in that aspect," Tessa said with a teasing smile.

"I don't know *who* you are talking about," Duncan said, pretending to be affronted by the idea that she might be referring to him.

"Of course not." Tessa wrapped her arms around the Scot. "But I love you both anyway." She kissed his cheek, then asked, "Should I try to talk to him? Maybe he will listen to me."

"I hope so, but it might be better to wait until tomorrow. Maybe some of what I said will sink in by then."

"All right."

****

After Duncan left, Richie remained where he was for the longest time, thinking about what the Scot had said. Was he running out on his friends? Was he being a quitter? But what kind of friend could he be if he was blind? He couldn't help with the store. He couldn't run errands for them. He couldn't even dress himself without someone picking out clothes that matched.

But maybe Duncan and Tessa wouldn't care. After all, they'd taken him in knowing that he was nothing more than a common thief--and a not very successful one at that. They had to teach him so much before he'd been of any use in the store. Was this so very different? 

But even if they were willing to take care of him, how long would it last? How long before they started to regret that decision? Besides, it wouldn't be fair to Duncan and Tessa. They'd already done so much for him--he couldn't let them make that kind of sacrifice. He'd have to move on as soon as he could.

With a start, Richie realized he'd actually thought about having a future even if he was blind. Why? He'd already made the decision to end it all if his sight didn't return. He hadn't changed his mind.

Or had he?

With that disturbing thought, Richie stood up and headed for his bed.

*****

Friday:

Richie had found sleep to be elusive. His mind had gone around in circles as he wondered whether he could handle a life in the dark. He still hadn't settled on an answer. The only thing that he had decided was that he had better start being independent right away. Not only would Duncan and Tessa be happy about that, but it would get him one step closer to being on his own should his sight not return.

He still hadn't figured out a good way of telling time, but his stomach thought it was time to get up. He put on the same clothes he'd worn the day before. He would take a shower later, and change to clean clothes then. His first concern was to find some food to stop the empty feeling in his stomach.

He left his room and cautiously headed toward the kitchen. He hadn't put on shoes or socks, and found that this was an added benefit. He could feel the difference between the rugs and the wood floor, and judge his progress based on that. He soon reached the refrigerator, and felt a sense of pride that he'd made it without mishap.

Since no voice had greeted him, Richie decided it was either too early for Duncan and Tessa to be up, or they were already out in the shop. Either way, he was determined to get his own breakfast. He opened the refrigerator door, and carefully searched until he found the glass pitcher that should contain orange juice. A quick sniff proved him right. His next stop was the cupboards where the glasses were kept.

Richie moved around the kitchen, counting the cupboards as he went until he figured he'd found the right one. He opened it, and reached inside. Disaster almost struck when he knocked a glass over, but somehow he managed to catch it before it fell far. He finally moved over to the sink where he poured the juice into the glass. At least this way, if he spilled, he wouldn't have a mess to clean up, too.

Cooking seemed out of the question, and Richie thought a few moments about what he could have for breakfast. Finally, he decided on toast. There was always bread, and he had no difficulty finding the breadbox. He pulled out two slices, then hunted for the toaster. While it was working, he returned to the refrigerator and searched for the jelly. He had thought about butter, but he couldn't decide which container held that. The jelly was always kept on the door, on the bottom shelf, and he could also tell it by smell. 

It didn't take long before he was able to start eating. He opted to eat standing at the counter. There was no reason to risk an accident by carrying his meal into the dining room. He had just taken a bite out of his second piece of toast when a stern voice startled him, and he dropped the bread.

"Richie, what are you doing?" Duncan asked. "It's not even four o'clock yet."

Richie shrugged, keeping his back to the Scot. "I was hungry, and I had no way of telling what time it was." He searched the counter top until he found his toast--which had landed jelly side down. He decided it didn't matter and took another bite out of it before continuing. "I thought you'd be happy that I'm taking care of myself."

Duncan sighed loudly enough for Richie to hear, then said, "All right, but try to get some more sleep after you're done eating. Remember, the doctor wanted you to get plenty of rest."

Richie didn't respond--he just kept eating his breakfast. When nothing more was said, he figured Duncan had gone back to his bedroom. He fixed himself another slice of toast, then tried to put the kitchen back in order. He couldn't be sure that he'd gotten all the jelly off the counter, but at least he'd tried.

The teenager finally headed back to his bedroom, totally unaware that Duncan had remained in the living room, watching him with brooding eyes.

*****

Once Richie was safely back in his room, Duncan retrieved his sword and headed out to Tessa's workshop. He knew that going back to sleep would be impossible, so he decided to do a kata instead. Slowly, he started through the motions, trying to empty his mind and concentrate on each movement, but it seemed impossible.

If only he could battle Richie's blindness with a sword--then, maybe, he could accomplish something. He just didn't know how to handle this situation, and so far, everything that he had tried had only made things worse. Even if Richie's sight did come back, his relationship with the teenager had taken a definite blow. It would be another tough battle to regain Richie's trust and friendship.

What had ever made him think he was up to the task of looking after a teenager? Of guiding him into becoming a mature, responsible adult who would be able to handle the daunting task of being an Immortal someday? It had seemed so simple when he'd promised Connor that he would look after Richie. Maybe he was having so many problems because it had been almost four centuries since he'd been Richie's age.

Tessa, on the other hand, always seemed to understand what Richie was thinking or feeling. She knew when to humor the teenager, and when to scold. Richie seemed to go out of his way to please Tessa. That didn't mean they didn't have their clashes, but they usually got past them fairly quickly.

He was going to have to let Tessa try her magic. If she couldn't get through to Richie, then no one could.

*****

Tessa took a deep breath, feeling like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. It wasn't fair that Duncan had decided she should try to talk to Richie. The young man practically hero-worshipped the Scot, and listened to almost anything he had to say. Plus, Duncan had four hundred years of experience. He should be the one doing this. They could have a man-to-man talk. Half the time, she didn't have a clue about what to say to a teenage boy. In some ways, she had been thrown into motherhood feet first. Most women had a chance to learn, on the job you might say, as their children grew up. They didn't have a seventeen-year-old boy suddenly appear in their life.

She took another deep breath, then knocked on Richie's door. She knew the young man was awake since Duncan had just come back from putting medication in Richie's eyes. 

"Come in," Richie's resigned voice called out.

She opened the door, and went inside. Richie was lying on his bed, but he sat up as she walked over to join him. He leaned back against the headboard while she took a seat on the edge of the bed. 

"I brought you some muffins and hot chocolate. Duncan said you had breakfast very early this morning, so I thought you might want a snack to tide you over until lunch." 

"Isn't this against Mac's rules? I thought I was supposed to feed myself, or go hungry."

"Please, Richie, I wish we could just forget about what happened last night. It was a really bad idea, and we should never have done it. Will you accept my apology?"

The young man shrugged, then said, "Sure... I guess..."

Not the most convincing answer. Tessa almost shoved the plate she was still holding into Richie's hands. "Here, have a muffin. I'll put the hot chocolate right here on your nightstand."

He gave her a little smile as he set the plate on his lap, then reached for one of the muffins. "Thanks, Tessa."

"And if there is anything you need, you just ask for it. Understand?"

Richie nodded, his mouth too full to say anything.

"Good." Tessa took a deep breath, but before she could start on the more difficult subject, Richie swallowed his food, and interrupted her.

"Does Mac agree to that?" Richie paused for a moment, then blurted out, "I don't think he likes me much anymore."

"That's not true!" Tessa protested. "He's just a little... disappointed by your decision to commit suicide."

"Yeah, I've been a disappointment to a lot of people in my life," Richie responded, past hurt evident in his words.

"That is *not* what I mean. He's not disappointed in you--he's disappointed by your decision. He has never understood why mortals would cut their--to him--already short lives even shorter. You are only eighteen, Richie, and you want to end your life before you've really had a chance to live it.

"I don't want to be blind," Richie said in a small voice.

Tessa quickly moved up to the head of the bed, so she could put her arm around Richie's shoulders. "No one *wants* to be blind, but it isn't the end of the world. Duncan and I will not abandon you, no matter what."

"But that's not fair to you and Mac. You have your own life, and the last thing you need is someone who's totally helpless."

"Don't you *dare* think that you are doing this for Duncan and me!" Tessa protested, angrily. "You are our friend, and friends help each other through the hard times. Besides, you won't be totally helpless. There are special schools that will teach you how to be independent. You might even be able to get a seeing eye dog which would make it easier to get around. And the doctor also mentioned corneal transplants if your eyes are too damaged. I don't know how long you'd have to wait for that, but it's still a hope for the future. And they are always coming up with new treatments. As long as you are alive, there is always hope."

Tessa paused, and waited to see if any of what she had said had made an impact on Richie. It was so hard to tell when you couldn't see his eyes because of the bandages. All she could tell was that his shoulders were stiff and tense. When the young man remained quiet, she decided to try one more thing.

"Will you at least think about your decision, Richie? And talk to us before you do anything final? Please?"

Richie nodded. "I'll... I'll think about it, Tessa."

His answer confused her. Was he going to think about his decision, or was he going to think about talking to them before he committed suicide? Either way, she didn't want to push him too much. They still had several days before their appointment with the doctor.

"Thank you," she said, kissing his cheek. "Now finish up your muffins and hot chocolate. I'll be back to get you for lunch."

"No, I can come out to the kitchen by myself," Richie said. "You just need to let me know when it's lunchtime. I can't tell what time it is."

"Of course," Tessa said with a sinking heart as she stood up. It sounded like she had failed, too. Richie was still being stubborn about doing things for himself. "If you need anything, we won't be far away." She kissed his cheek again, then headed for the door.

Before she left the room, she turned and looked back at Richie. "There is one more thing you should think about, Richie--the pain you will cause those you leave behind. This isn't just about you. Duncan and I would be devastated by your death." With that, she quickly left the room before she burst into tears.

She went out to the antique store. Duncan was busy with a customer, but he looked in her direction, hope written all over his face. She shook her head and his disappointment was very evident to her. He turned back to the customer, while she decided to go back to the apartment.

*****

Saturday:

Duncan lowered the newspaper he had been reading when he heard Richie's bedroom door open. A few moments later, the teenager appeared, headed for the kitchen.

"Good morning, Richie," he called out.

The young man jumped, obviously startled by the sudden noise. "Geez, Mac, don't do that to a guy."

"Sorry. I just wanted to let you know I was here. Can I make you breakfast? Pancakes? Eggs? An omelet?" Tessa had made it quite clear that he was to do anything Richie asked.

"No, I can manage." Richie continued on toward the kitchen.

Duncan watched as the young man fumbled his way around the kitchen as he fixed his meal which consisted of muffins and orange juice. It took a great deal of willpower to sit there and watch without going over and helping out. Even though Tessa had told him that she had straightened everything out with Richie, the teenager still insisted on doing most things by himself. Duncan could almost feel the chasm between himself and the teenager widening by the minute.

He just didn't know what to do about it. The one thing he had finally decided on was that he wouldn't stand by and let Richie swallow the sleeping pills. He still had hopes that the teenager would make that decision on his own, but if the news was bad, Duncan had every intention of searching Richie's bedroom and bathroom to remove any possible means of committing suicide.

Duncan knew that would probably be the final step in alienating Richie, but he couldn't stand by and let the young man try to end his life. It would be up to Tessa to help Richie make the adjustments necessary to live in a dark world. He would do as much as he could, but it would have to be done subtly so that Richie wouldn't reject his help.

They just had to get through the next forty-eight hours before they would know whether Richie could see again. It seemed like an eternity. Today they had the shop to look after, but tomorrow they were closed. Maybe Tessa could come up with some idea that would make the time fly. 

"Good morning," Tessa called out as she walked into the living room. She paused when she saw Richie in the kitchen, then hurried over to Duncan's side. "Why aren't you fixing Richie's breakfast?" she whispered in an angry tone. 

"I offered," Duncan protested, "and he refused. What else could I do?"

"You could have tried harder!" Tessa hurried over to the kitchen. "Richie, why don't you let me fix you a hot breakfast?"

"The muffins are plenty, Tessa. I don't need a hot breakfast."

"Are you sure? It wouldn't be a problem to fix something."

"I'm sure."

"If you insist." Tessa poured herself a cup of coffee as she glanced at the clock. "It's time to open the shop," she reminded Duncan.

The Scot stood up, folding the paper and setting it down on the chair. "I'm on my way."

Tessa cleaned up the kitchen after Richie had finished his breakfast and headed back to his room. She wished she could come up with some task that would give the teenager something to do to occupy his time. Sitting in his room all day had to be extremely boring.

Finally, she headed for the antique store, stopping in the office to check her planner to see if anything had been scheduled for the day. There was only one entry for the day, and the moment she read it, her stomach started churning. How could she have forgotten that? Jennifer Mitchell was one of the first people she'd met when she'd moved to Seacouver, and they'd become the best of friends. Tonight was her engagement party, and Tessa had promised to be there. 

"Duncan, tonight is Jennifer's engagement party, and I promised we would be there. What are we going to do?"

"We're going to be there," Duncan responded. "I don't see what the problem is."

"Richie." Tessa stared at her lover, unable to believe he didn't understand. "We can't leave him alone, and I am positive he will not want to go with us."

Duncan frowned. "We wouldn't have to stay that long. Richie probably wouldn't mind being on his own for a while. And if he does, then I can stay here, and you can go to the party. For that matter, I'm sure Jennifer would understand if you explained we couldn't be there because of Richie's accident." 

"I'd hate to disappoint them." Tessa gave a sigh. "I'll go talk to Richie and see if he would mind being left alone for a while."

She headed for Richie's room, and knocked at his door. When he called out, she opened the door and went inside.

"Richie, my friend Jennifer's engagement party is tonight, and I promised to be there, but that was before your accident. Duncan said he would stay home with you, if you don't want to be left alone."

"I don't need a babysitter!" Richie protested. "I'm perfectly capable of being by myself."

"I just hate the thought of you being by yourself right now."

"Why? Are you afraid I'll kill myself while you're gone?" Richie said, somewhat cynically.

"Of course not! That was the last thing on my mind! It's just that so many things could go wrong, and if you can't..."

"If I can't see?" Richie finished her sentence. "That might be a way of life for me from now on. I might as well get used to it."

Tessa hugged him. "I hope you don't have to get used to it at all!"

Richie clung tightly to her for a moment before releasing her. "So, you and Mac go out and have a good time. Just forget about me. I'll be fine on my own."

Tessa tweaked his chin. "Richie, you are unforgettable. Very well, we will go, but we won't stay too long."

"Stay as long as you want. It's no problem."

*****

Richie practically had to shove Duncan and Tessa out the door to get them to go to the party. He'd been alone at night before, so he really didn't think this would be any different. But it didn't take long to change his mind. There was something about not being able to see that caused every noise to echo through the place.

Logically, he knew there was little chance that someone would try to break into the antique store--at least at this time of the night. Most thieves waited until much later at night when people would normally be asleep. On the other hand, there was no telling when another Immortal intent on wreaking havoc and mayhem might show up.

And what could he do if someone did break in? He'd never felt more helpless in his life. Maybe it would be different if he'd been blind longer. Then maybe he would feel more comfortable in his surroundings.

Finally, he headed for his bedroom, shutting the door behind him, then turned on his CD player, setting the volume high enough to cover any other noise. He went over to his bed and sat down, but couldn't decide if that was any better. 

It was almost like being in a horror movie. His overactive imagination could easily picture someone sneaking through the apartment, slowly opening his bedroom door, and coming up behind him, knife ready to plunge into his unsuspecting back. With a gasp, Richie hurried over to his CD player and shut it off. He wanted to be able to hear if someone was coming.

He'd give up just about anything right now to hear Duncan's voice. Then he'd know there was nothing to fear. But he knew he wouldn't hear it--it could be hours before he was back.

Suddenly, that seemed like an eternity.

In the quiet, his brain had too much time to think. He was alone. There was little to no chance of Duncan and Tessa returning this early. He could remove his bandages, and no one would know. He could see if his sight was starting to come back. Almost without realizing it, his hands reached for the bandages. 

It took a great effort to move his hands back down to his lap. What if he couldn't see? Did he want to face that on his own? What if he caused more damage to his eyes by trying to see too early? Surely, a little peek wouldn't do that? But how would he know? His hands reached for the bandages again, but he suddenly pictured Tessa and Duncan watching him, and their disapproving faces. It was enough to change his mind.

He had to find something to do to keep his mind off the temptation. Richie decided to go back out to the living room. He was definitely moving around the apartment much easier now, and he paused in the alcove to turn on the television set. 

His next stop was the kitchen. Some snacks and some television should keep his irrational fears at bay. It took some time for him to find something that met his strict standards of junk food. The last thing he wanted was something that would be healthy for him. Potato chips and soda in hand, he headed back to the alcove and got comfortable on the small sofa there. 

It was frustrating to just listen to the television. He'd tuned in to one of his favorite comedy shows, but often there would be laughter from the audience that he couldn't understand. Finally, he reached for the remote and changed the channel. The next channel was a show about serial killers.

"Bad choice," he muttered to himself, quickly changing channels.

The next channel had a horror movie on. The suspenseful music sent a chill down his spine, and he continued his search. Listening to weather forecasts was boring. The same was true of the basketball game that was on. He finally ended up listening to a history channel that was talking about the civil war. It made him wonder what Duncan had been doing during that time. Had he even been in the United States? Maybe he would ask the Scot about it.

Suddenly, Richie chuckled. At any other time, he'd flee from anything that resembled a school lesson, and here he was, thinking about pursuing the subject. Of course, if his teachers had been able to bring in Immortals like Duncan to tell them about historical events, they might have been able to hold his attention long enough to learn something.

After the show was over, he clicked through the channels again, settling on the local news. At least that told him it was 11:00. Duncan and Tessa should be getting home soon. They'd promised it would be no later than midnight, but he had a feeling they would not be that late.

The top news story dealt with a break-in and murder that had occurred the night before. It hadn't been all that far from the antique store. The same person could be casing their place now. It brought back to Richie, once again, just how alone and helpless he was. He shut off the television, not wanting to hear any more. 

A sudden noise at the back door brought Richie to his feet, his heart pounding. What should he do? Could he reach the phone in time to call for help? Or should he go hide somewhere? With no lights on, the intruder might not realize someone was here. But how did he know that no lights were on? Duncan and Tessa might have left some on before they left and he'd never know.

He headed for his bedroom, deciding that hiding would be his best bet, when another noise stopped him in his tracks. "Richie, we're home," Tessa called out.

He heaved a deep sigh, and tried to calm his pounding heart as he listened to their footsteps cross her workshop and climb the stairs to the apartment.

"Home so soon?" he asked, hoping his tone was casual enough to hide his relief.

"Yes, it was a very dull party," Tessa replied, her tone almost too casual.

Richie was certain his hunch was right. They had left early because they didn't want to leave him alone for long. And he knew it had nothing to do with worrying about whether he'd commit suicide while they were gone. But they had been worried, and it made him realize just how much they did care for him.

It suddenly hit him that if his sight didn't come back, that they would never enjoy an outing again--at least as long as he was still alive. Every time they left him alone, they'd be worrying if he would commit suicide while they were gone. It didn't take much imagination to picture Tessa's face if she was the one to find his body. How could he even think about doing that to her?

His stomach churning at the thought, he headed for his bedroom, calling back over his shoulder, "I'm going to bed. Good night."

"Good night, Richie." Their voices followed him into his room. Once there, he sat down on his bed and opened the nightstand drawer. A few seconds of searching, and he found the bottle of sleeping pills. He held it in his hand for the longest time, trying to decide what to do.

When he finally made up his mind, he stood up and went over to his bedroom door and opened it. He listened carefully, wondering if Duncan and Tessa had already gone to their bedroom, but then he heard a noise from the living room. Taking a deep breath, and summoning all his courage, he headed in that direction.

"Mac? Tessa?" 

"Tessa has already gone to bed," Duncan responded. "Do you need something, Richie?"

"Uh... if it's not too late, I'd... like to talk."

"It's never too late to talk. Do you want me to get Tessa?"

Richie thought about that for a moment, then decided it would be easier to talk to just Duncan. The Scot would be less likely to get all emotional on him. Tessa would probably start crying, and he didn't want that to happen. "No, that's all right. We can talk without her." 

He slowly made his way toward the stairs that lead down into the sunken living room. He wasn't so comfortable with this maneuver. Knowing that Duncan was watching him added to his discomfort. He suddenly paused, unsure of where he was at.

"One more step, then you can step down," Duncan coached him. 

A little more confident, Richie followed the instructions, and stepped down into the living room. 

"Let me help you," Duncan said. "I wouldn't want you to trip over the coffee table."

Richie held out his hand, and the Scot took it to lead him across the room. "Here's the couch, sit down." He did as he was told, then felt Duncan sit down beside him. 

Silence reigned while Richie decided how to start. Finally, he thrust out the bottle of pills toward Duncan. "Here, I won't need these," he blurted out. He felt the bottle being removed from his hand, then heard the pills slide around as if Duncan were turning the bottle.

"I'm not sure I understand," the Scot finally said. "Does this mean..." His words trailed off as if he didn't want to hope.

"I changed my mind. No matter what happens on Monday, I won't be committing suicide." He sat back, wondering how Duncan would react. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined what happened next.

Strong arms wrapped themselves around the teenager, and Richie was pulled forward against Duncan's chest in a tight hug.

"Thank God!" he heard whispered against his ear. Richie let his arms creep around the Immortal's waist, and he hugged him back. He wasn't big on hugging or touching, especially with men. But this was good. He felt safe, protected, and loved.

Eventually, Duncan released him, and Richie sat back reluctantly.

"What made you change your mind?" Duncan finally asked.

"Does it matter?" Richie didn't really want to explain. He wasn't sure that he could.

"No, it doesn't matter. I'm just glad you did."

"I'm still scared, Mac," Richie admitted, finding it easier to say the words than he thought it would be.

He felt an arm come around his shoulder, and once again he found himself being pulled close to Duncan. This wasn't a hug, just a strong feeling of friendship and care. He rested his head on the Scot's arm, soaking in the feeling.

"I'm scared, too, Rich. But we'll be there for each other--no matter what happens."

Richie nodded, unable to speak for a few moments over the lump in his throat. "If I'm..." he just couldn't say the word, "it won't be easy."

"It doesn't matter as long as we're all together. We'll get through this, Richie. Just don't shut us out when the going gets tough."

"I won't."

"Promise?" Duncan squeezed his shoulder.

"Promise." Richie turned his face towards his friend. "I'm sorry I've been such a pain in the ass the last few days."

Duncan squeezed his shoulder again. "I think you've had good reason. My behavior hasn't exactly been the best, either. I'm sorry, too."

Richie nodded, not knowing exactly what to say after that. Before he could come up with anything, he yawned widely.

"I think you should be in bed," Duncan said.

Richie felt the Scot's arm being removed, then the couch cushion shift as Duncan stood up. He held up a hand which was gripped in a strong, callused palm, and he was pulled to his feet. He let Duncan lead him back to his bedroom door.

"Good night, Rich."

"Night, Mac."

Duncan waited until Richie had closed his bedroom door before hurrying down the hallway to his own bedroom. He didn't care if Tessa was already asleep. He'd wake her up if necessary to tell her the news.

He didn't have to, though. She was leafing through a magazine when he entered the room. Duncan almost jumped on the bed, holding out the bottle of pills for Tessa to see.

She gave him a puzzled look, then took the bottle from him. She looked at it, then back at him. "Where did you get this? Did you search Richie's room?"

"Of course not! Richie gave them to me. He said he didn't need them--isn't that wonderful?"

It took a moment for her to understand, then she threw her arms around Duncan's neck and kissed him. "Yes, it is wonderful! How did you convince him?"

"I don't know--maybe it was you who convinced him. He didn't explain why he changed his mind, and I didn't care." Duncan flopped onto his back, knowing he was still wearing a silly grin, but he didn't care about that, either. 

Tessa set aside the magazine, and the bottle of pills before spreading herself across his chest. "You look happy."

"I am. Right now I feel like I could handle anything. I know that Richie might still end up blind, but I know that we'll get through it. As long as we're together, we can do it."

"I hope so." Tessa smiled at him, then moved up to kiss him. 

A few minutes later, Richie was the last thing on his mind.

*****

Sunday:

Duncan whistled lightly as he prepared the ingredients to make omelets. His good mood had carried over to the morning, and he found himself smiling again. He briefly thought about waking Tessa and Richie, but decided to let them sleep a while longer. Instead, he busied himself setting the table, so that it wouldn't take long to serve breakfast.

Tessa soon joined him, and he gave her a quick kiss. She looked around the kitchen, then smiled up at him. "You've been busy this morning."

Duncan just shrugged, and smiled back at her. He glanced back at the clock, then asked, "Should we wake Richie up, or let him sleep in?"

Before she could answer, they heard the teenager's bedroom door open. A moment later, Richie started across the living room.

"Good morning, Richie," Tessa said, as she hurried over to him, and hugged him tightly. "Duncan told me your news last night. I'm so happy!"

Even from the kitchen, Duncan could see the blush that filled Richie's face. He smiled, then called out, "Morning, Rich. You're just in time. I was just about to start cooking breakfast. Tessa, why don't you help him to his chair?"

The Scot busied himself at the stove, and soon had three omelets cooked and served. "So, what are we going to do today?" he asked as he joined the other two at the table.

Richie shrugged. "Probably the same thing as yesterday--I'll listen to music or television."

Duncan frowned. "No, I was thinking we could do something together--make this day go by faster."

"How about going for a long drive?" Tessa suggested. "It is supposed to be sunny today."

"Yeah, why don't you guys do that," Richie replied.

"All of us," Tessa said, in a no-nonsense tone. "It will be good for you to get outside for a while. You haven't been outside since Wednesday."

"All right."

"And I know just the place to go," Duncan said, smiling at the thought.

*****

Duncan made a phone call, then fixed up a picnic basket, keeping that a secret from Richie and Tessa. He stashed a few other items that they knew nothing about in the trunk of the T-bird and, two hours later, they were on their way. Despite any cajoling from Tessa and Richie, he refused to divulge their final destination.

Sixty minutes later, Duncan glanced in the rear view mirror to see Richie with his head resting back against the upholstery. "You're not falling asleep on us, are you, Richie?" he called back over his shoulder. 

"Nope. Just soaking in the sun. It's not like I can watch the scenery going by."

The Scot didn't like the slightly depressed tone in Richie's voice, and hoped his idea would raise the teenager's spirits. "Well, we don't have much further to go. Hang in there."

Soon, he pulled up in front of a beautiful house. As soon as he shut off the engine, he could hear the sound of waves rolling into shore.

"Do we know someone who lives here?" Tessa asked as she got out of the car, staring at the house.

"Not exactly--more a friend of a friend. I came out here to do an appraisal several months ago as a favor for an old friend. You remember--I had to spend the night because the fog was so bad."

Tessa nodded. "Yes, I remember. So, why are we here?"

"I called the owner this morning and asked if we could borrow his beach. It's very private because the only access is from their property. I thought you and Richie would enjoy spending the day at the beach--even if it's not warm enough to go swimming." 

Duncan went to the back of the T-bird and opened the trunk, pulling out the picnic basket, a cooler, and some blankets. Tessa, in the meantime, had helped Richie out of the car. The Scot lead the way around the house, heading for the stairs to the beach. He paused at the top, then set the basket and cooler down. He handed the blankets to Tessa.

"I'd better help Richie down the stairs," Duncan said, frowning slightly as he looked at the distance they would have to cover. "I didn't think about this part of it." He took Richie's left hand and placed it on the railing, then placed the teenager's right hand in the crook of his arm. "Ready, Rich?"

The young man nodded, then slowly stepped down. It took a while for them to reach the bottom, but at least they didn't have an accident. Tessa had already spread out the blankets, and Duncan guided Richie over to them.

"I'll be right back," he said, before jogging back up the stairs for the basket and cooler. When he rejoined the other two, the first thing he did was to pull out a tube of sunscreen and pass it over to Tessa. "You and Richie had better put that on your face and arms so you don't burn."

Tessa wrinkled her nose at him. "And you don't sunburn, I suppose."

He grinned back at her. "Nope."

Richie sighed as Tessa spread the sunscreen on his face. "I hate to be a spoilsport, Mac, but won't this be a little bit boring? I mean just sitting around on a beach isn't my idea of a good time."

"We'll do other things, too, but first, just be quiet and listen."

It took a moment, but it finally sank in. Richie's head turned toward the ocean, and a look of wonderment crossed his face. "I've never really listened to the ocean before. I've been to the beach, but I never paid much attention to the sound of the ocean."

"Too busy chasing girls, I suppose," Duncan said with a teasing grin.

Richie just grinned, then laid back on the blankets. Duncan knew it wouldn't last that long, but he settled back on the blankets, pulling Tessa close.

Surprisingly, it took almost forty minutes before Richie sat up with a sigh. "So, what else can we do?"

This time it was Tessa who came up with the suggestion. "Take off your shoes and socks, and roll up your pant legs. It might be too cold to swim, but we can still splash around in the waves."

Richie seemed to like that idea, and wasted no time removing his shoes and socks. Tessa and Duncan followed suit, then they all walked down to the water's edge.

"Ooooh, it's cold," Richie said as the first wave touched his feet. He danced back out of its reach. 

"Don't be such a chicken," Duncan said, grabbing one of the teenager's hands and pulling him forward.

This started a small tug-of-war between the two of them, but since Richie was laughing, Duncan knew the teenager wasn't serious about staying out of the water. He could have easily pulled Richie into the surf, but he didn't want to do that. Several moments later, Tessa joined in the fracas by grabbing Richie's other hand. Together, they pulled Richie close enough to get his feet wet again.

"Not fair!" Richie protested through his laughter. "That's two against one!" He got his revenge by kicking up some water in the Scot's direction.

"You'll pay for that," Duncan threatened, quickly wrapping both arms around Richie and pushing him toward the surf. The teenager struggled, but couldn't get free. At the last moment, Duncan let him go, never intending to drop him in the water.

For the next hour, they played around in the surf. Duncan finally stepped back and watched as Richie made a game of trying to stay out of the surf. As the wave receded, the young man would follow it, then try to retreat before it came back. He was getting pretty good at judging it before he finally gave up, coming back up to dry sand and flopping down.

After resting for a while, they went back to the blankets and ate lunch. Duncan was glad to see how much Richie ate. Ever since the accident, the young man hadn't been eating that much. It was nice to see that his appetite was back.

Once they were done, Richie stretched out on his stomach, his head resting on his hands. He sighed, then asked, "Hey, Mac, were you involved in the Civil War?"

Wondering what had prompted that question, Duncan replied, "Yes."

"Would you tell me about it? There was a special on TV last night, and it kind of got me to wondering..."

Duncan got comfortable, then starting telling about his time with the underground railroad, helping slaves to freedom in the north. Tessa knew some of it, since the Scot had told her about his friend, Lucas Desiree, who he'd met during that war. He would have been a good man for Richie to meet. It was too bad he'd lost his head before Duncan had the chance to introduce them to each other.

Once he was done, he dragged Richie back down to the wet sand. The tide had been going out ever since they got there, so there was quite a stretch of sand for them to play in. Tessa couldn't resist, and joined them in building a sand castle. Even without being able to see, Richie did quite a good job on his portion.

Finally, Duncan called an end to the day. He carried the basket and cooler back up to the car while Tessa shook out the blankets and folded them up. The Scot returned to the beach, and helped Richie up the stairs and back to the car. He winced at the amount of sand the teenager had on his clothes, but didn't say anything. The car could always be cleaned.

Once they were back home, everyone headed for their bedrooms to take showers. Richie was already in the living room when Duncan came out.

"Did you have a good time today?" the Scot asked, although he already knew the answer.

"Yeah, it was great. I guess blind people can have fun, too." Richie paused for a moment, then added, "It wasn't necessary, Mac. I already told you I wouldn't commit suicide. You don't have to prove anything to me anymore."

"That's not why I did this, Richie. All I was after was a way to make the day go by fast. If we had fun doing it, all the better. I wasn't trying to prove anything." He didn't bother telling Richie his other reason for the day in the sun. Hopefully, the young man would easily fall asleep tonight instead of spending half the night worrying about the doctor's appointment in the morning.

Richie smiled. "Well, it was a great day. Maybe we could do it again, sometime."

"Of course. I'd like that, too." Duncan reached out to ruffle Richie's hair. It had been a fun day, and he'd forgotten how relaxing the ocean could be. Now, he just needed to keep the young man relaxed for the rest of the evening. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to do that.

Dinner took up part of the evening, but they could only draw that out for so long. Duncan could feel the tension rise as the evening progressed. And it wasn't just Richie. Tessa was almost as bad, and he knew he wasn't far behind. 

Starting a fire would help two of them, but wouldn't do Richie much good. Likewise, he didn't think putting on operatic music would calm the young man down, either. The only other option was for them to all get drunk, but he really didn't think that was a very good idea. 

Tessa had other ideas. She pulled Richie over to the couch, then sat down beside him, wrapping her arms around the young man, and pulling him back so he rested against her. "Tell us some more about your past, Duncan," she ordered.

"Any specific time period?" Duncan asked while he racked his brain for something that would keep them interested and amused. 

"Your choice," Tessa said.

Duncan settled back in his chair, and started telling them about the friendship between Hugh Fitzcairn, Gina de Valicourt, and himself. Of course, Gina hadn't been married to Robert de Valicourt at the time. He had Richie laughing at the picture of them breaking into Robert's home to steal back something that belonged to Gina. He kept embellishing the story as he told it, making himself and Fitzcairn more bumbling than they had really been at the time.

Finally, it was bedtime. Tessa took Richie back to his bedroom while Duncan shut off the gas fireplace, and checked the doors to make sure they were all locked. He was on the way to his own bedroom, when Richie's door opened.

"Something wrong, Rich?"

"Uh... Could I... I mean it wouldn't hurt if..." The teenager fidgeted nervously.

"What? Just say it, Richie."

"Well, I was wondering if I could take a sleeping pill? I don't think I can sleep."

Normally, Duncan wouldn't have let Richie rely on drugs to sleep, but this was not a normal situation. And since the doctor had prescribed them for the teenager, it couldn't hurt just this once.

"Of course, Rich. Go ahead and climb back into bed, and I'll be right back." He hurried back to his bedroom, and retrieved the bottle of pills, then to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Richie had followed orders, and was in bed when Duncan got to his bedroom. "Hold your hand out," he said as he opened the bottle. He shook one pill out onto Richie's outstretched hand. "Here's some water."

Duncan set the bottle and the glass down on the nightstand once Richie had swallowed the sleeping pill. He sat down on the bed, then asked, "You hanging in there?"

Richie nodded. 

"Good." He stood up, straightening out the bedcovers where he had been sitting. "Sleep well."

Duncan picked up the glass and the bottle of pills, and was almost to the door when Richie's voice stopped him.

"Mac?"

"Yes?"

"Did you take the sleeping pills with you?"

"Yes." Duncan prayed that Richie hadn't changed his mind.

"Richie sighed. "Good."

"You haven't changed your mind, have you?"

"No." Richie paused for a moment. "But I just don't want the temptation around--you understand?"

"Yes, I understand. Just remember that talking things out can often solve a problem."

"Thanks, Mac." Richie yawned widely.

"Go to sleep." Duncan watched silently from the doorway until he was sure Richie had fallen asleep. Only then did he turn to his own bed.

*****

Monday:

"What's taking so long!" Richie complained. It felt like it had been forever since they'd been shown into an exam room, but they were still waiting for the doctor.

A strong hand came to rest on his shoulder. "Take it easy. It hasn't been that long," Duncan said.

"Well, it feels like forever!" Richie was in no mood to be reasonable. He wanted to know if he could see, and he wanted to know now!

Finally, Dr. Mercer joined them. "How are you doing, Richie?"

"You tell me."

"Any pain in your eyes?"

"No."

"Okay, let's see how they look. I want you to keep your eyes shut until I tell you to open them."

Richie felt the bandages being removed, then the gauze pads. Finally, he heard the words he'd been waiting to here. "All right, Richie. I want you to open your eyes very slowly. If you feel any pain, close them and tell me."

The young man took a deep breath, then slowly opened his eyes. All he could see was darkness. Panic almost overwhelmed him. "I can't see! I can't see!"

"Calm down, Richie. The room is dark, and I have my hand blocking your eyes. Now, do your eyes hurt in any way?"

Richie struggled to control his breathing before he answered. "No."

"Okay. I'm going to move my hand. If you feel any pain, close your eyes as fast as you can."

It seemed to take an eternity, and Richie fought against his panic the whole time. Slowly, he realized he could see some light. He blinked his eyes furiously, trying to focus. "I can see light!"

"Good."

Suddenly, Richie realized he could see a hand. It was only about six inches in front of his face. It must have belonged to the doctor, because it kept pulling back. Richie looked around the room, trying to locate Duncan and Tessa. They were standing off to the side, holding on to each other tightly.

"I can see!" He turned back to the doctor. "I can see!"

"Let's just take a look." The doctor held up some weird gadget with a light in it, and peered through it into Richie's eyes, one at a time. "Yes, I think you're going to be just fine. Let's check out one more thing. Close your eyes for me."

Richie followed the doctor's order, but could tell through his closed lids that the room's lights must have been turned on.

"All right. Open your eyes slowly. It might take your eyes a little bit of time to adjust to the light, so don't rush it."

The young man opened his eyes, pleased that everything was coming into focus. He could even see the tears on Tessa's cheeks. He smiled at her before turning back to the doctor. "No pain."

"Great. I'll give you some more medicine that I want you to keep using for the next two weeks. Come back and see me then. Any questions?"

Richie shook his head. The doctor handed him a prescription, then left the room. The teenager slid off the examination table, and walked over to his friends. Suddenly, he was engulfed by both of them at the same time. 

He didn't care. If felt like he had come home.

The end.


End file.
